The Fourth K (32 page)

The second man was the surprise, and in the lurch of his heartbeat the Sultan recognized the presence of danger and began to believe the reality of Kennedy’s threat. For the second of the tribunes, as the Sultan thought of them, was none other than Arthur Wix, the President’s national security adviser, and a Jew. He was by reputation the most
powerful military figure in the United States and the ultimate enemy of the Arab states in their fight against Israel. The Sultan noted that Arthur Wix did not offer his hand, but only bowed with cold courtesy.

The next thought in the Sultan’s mind was that if the President’s threat was real, why would he send such a high official into such danger? What if he took these tribunes as hostages, would they not perish in any attack on Sherhaben? And indeed would Bert Audick come and risk a possible death? From what he knew of Audick, certainly not. So that meant there was room for negotiation and that the Kennedy threat was a bluff. Or, Kennedy was simply a madman and did not care what happened to his envoys and would carry out his threat anyway. He looked around at his reception room that served as his chamber of state. It was far more luxurious than anything in the White House. The walls were painted gold, the carpets were the most expensive in the world with exquisite patterns that could never be duplicated, the marble the purest and most intricately carved. How could all this be destroyed?

The Sultan said with quiet dignity, “My ambassador has given me the message from your President. I find it very hard to believe that the leader of the free world would dare to utter such a threat, much less implement it. And I am at a loss. What influence can I have over this bandit Yabril? Is your President another Attila the Hun? Does he imagine he rules ancient Rome rather than America?”

It was Audick who spoke first. He said, “Sultan Maurobi, I came here as your friend, to help you and your country. The President means to do as he threatens. It seems you have no alternative, you must give up this man Yabril.”

The Sultan was quiet for a long moment, then turned to Arthur Wix. He said ironically, “And what are you doing
here? Can America spare an important man like yourself if I refuse to comply with your President’s demands?”

“The fact that you would hold us as hostages if you refused those demands was carefully discussed,” Arthur Wix said. He was absolutely impassive. He did not show the anger and hatred he was feeling for the Sultan. “As the head of an independent country you are quite justified in your anger and in your counterthreat. But that is the very reason I am here. To assure you that the necessary military orders have been given. As the commander in chief of American military forces the President has that power. The city of Dak will shortly be no more. Twenty-four hours after that, if you do not comply, the country of Sherhaben will also be destroyed. All this will be no more”—he made a sweeping gesture around the room—“and you will be living on the charity of the rulers of your neighboring countries. You will be a Sultan still, but you will be a Sultan of nothing.”

The Sultan did not show his rage. He turned to the other American and said, “Do you have anything to add?”

Bert Audick said almost slyly, “There is no question that Kennedy means to carry out his threat. But there are other people in our government who disagree. This action may doom his presidency.” He said almost apologetically to Arthur Wix, “I think we have to bring this out in the open.”

Wix looked at him grimly. He had feared this possibility. Strategically it was always possible that Audick might try to make an end run. The bastard was going to try to undermine the whole deal. Just to save his fucking fifty billion.

Arthur Wix looked venomously at Audick and said to the Sultan, “There is no room for negotiation.”

Audick gave Wix a defiant glance and then addressed the Sultan again, “I think it fair, based on our long relationship, to tell you there is one hope. And I feel I must do it now in
front of my countryman, rather than in a private audience with you as I could easily do. The Congress of the United States is holding a special session to impeach President Kennedy. If we can announce the news that you are releasing the hostages, I guarantee Dak will not be destroyed.”

The Sultan said, “And I will not have to give up Yabril?”

“No,” Audick said. “But you must not insist on the release of the Pope’s killer.”

The Sultan, for all his good manners, could not completely disguise the note of glee when he said, “Mr. Wix, is this not a more reasonable solution?”

“My President impeached because a terrorist murdered his daughter? And then the murderer goes free?” Wix said. “No, it is not.”

Audick said, “We can always get that guy later.”

Wix gave him a look of such contempt and hatred that Audick knew that this man would be his enemy for life.

The Sultan said, “In two hours we will all meet with my friend Yabril. We will dine together, and come to an agreement. I will persuade him with sweet words or force. But the hostages will go free as soon as we learn that the city of Dak is safe. Gentlemen, you have my promise as a Muslim and as the ruler of Sherhaben.”

Then the Sultan gave orders for his communications center to notify him of the congressional vote as soon as it was known. He had the American envoys escorted to their rooms to bathe and change their clothing.

The Sultan had ordered Yabril to be smuggled off the plane and brought to the palace. Yabril was made to wait in the huge reception hall, and he noted that it was filled with the Sultan’s uniformed security guards. There had been other
signs that the palace was on an alert status. Yabril sensed immediately that he was in danger, but there was nothing to be done.

When Yabril was ushered into the Sultan’s reception room, he was relieved that the Sultan embraced him. Then the Sultan briefed him on what happened with the American tribunes. The Sultan said, “I promised them you would release the hostages without further negotiations. Now we await the decision of the American Congress.”

Yabril said, “But that means that my friend Romeo has been deserted by me. It is a blow to my reputation.”

The Sultan smiled and said, “When they try him for murder of the Pope, your cause will gain that much more publicity. And the fact that you go free after that coup and murdering the daughter of the President of the United States,
that
is glory. But what a nasty little surprise you gave me at the end. To kill a young girl in cold blood. That was not to my liking and really not clever.”

“It made a certain point,” Yabril said. “I never intended for her to get off that plane alive.”

“And now you must be satisfied,” the Sultan said. “In effect you have unseated the President of the United States. Which was beyond your wildest dreams.”

The Sultan gave a command to one of his retinue. “Go to the quarters of the American, Mr. Audick, and bring him here to us.”

When Bert Audick came into the room, he did not offer to shake hands with Yabril or make any gesture of friendliness. He simply stared. Yabril bowed his head and smiled. He was familiar with these types, these bloodsuckers of Arabian lifeblood, who made contracts with Sultans and kings to enrich America and other foreign states.

The Sultan said, “Mr. Audick, please explain to my friend the mechanics of how your Congress will dispose of your President.”

Audick did so. He was convincing, Yabril believed him. But he asked, “What if something goes wrong and you do not get your two-thirds vote?”

Audick said grimly, “Then you, me and the Sultan here are shit out of luck.”

President Francis Xavier Kennedy looked over the papers that Matthew Gladyce gave him and then initialed them. He saw the look of satisfaction on Gladyce’s face and knew exactly what it meant. That together they were putting one over on the American public. At another time, in other circumstances, he would have squelched that smug look, but Francis Kennedy realized that this was the most dangerous single moment in his political career and he must use every weapon available.

This evening the Congress would try to impeach him; they would use the vague wording of the Twenty-fifth Amendment to the Constitution in the attempt to do so. Maybe he could win the battle in the long run, but by then it would be too late. Bert Audick would arrange the release of the hostages, the escape of Yabril in return for the remaining hostages. The death of his daughter would go unavenged; the murderer of the Pope would go free. But Kennedy counted on his appeal to the nation over TV to launch such a wave of protesting telegrams as to make Congress waver. He knew the people would support his action; they were outraged at the murder of the Pope and of his daughter. They felt his heartbreak. And at that moment he felt a fierce communion with the people. They were his allies against the corrupt
Congress, the pragmatic and merciless businessmen like Bert Audick.

All through his life he had felt for the tragedies of the unfortunate, the mass of people struggling through life. Early in his career he had sworn to himself that he would never be corrupted by that love for money that seemed to generate the accomplishments of gifted men. He grew to despise the power of the rich, money used as a sword. But he had always felt, he realized now, that he was some sort of champion who was invulnerable and above the woes of his fellowman. He had never before grasped the hatred that the underclass must feel. But he felt it now. Now the rich, the powerful, would bring him down, now he must win for his own sake.

But he refused to be distracted by hatred. His mind must be clear in the coming crisis. Even if he should be impeached, he must make sure he would return to power. And then his plans would be far-reaching. The Congress and the rich might win this battle, but he saw clearly that they must lose the war. The people of the United States would not suffer humiliation gladly, there would be another election in November. This whole crisis could result in his favor even if he lost; his personal tragedy would be one of his weapons. But he had to be careful to hide his long-range plans even from his staff.

Kennedy understood he was preparing himself for ultimate power. There was no other course except to submit to defeat and all its anguish, and that he could never survive.

On Thursday afternoon, nine hours before the special session of Congress that would impeach the President of the United States, Francis Kennedy met with his advisers, his staff and Vice President Helen Du Pray.

It was to be their last strategy session before the congressional vote, and they all knew the enemy had the necessary two thirds. Kennedy saw immediately that the mood in the room was one of depression and defeat.

He gave them all a cheerful smile and opened the meeting by thanking the CIA chief, Theodore Tappey, for not having signed the impeachment proposal. Then he turned to Vice President Du Pray and laughed, a genuine good-humored laugh.

“Helen,” he said, “I wouldn’t be in your shoes for anything in the world. Do you realize how many enemies you made when you refused to sign the impeachment papers? You could have been the first woman President of the United States. Congress hates you because without your signature they can’t get away with it. Men will hate you for being so magnanimous. Feminists will consider you a traitor. God, how did an old pro like you get in such a fix? By the way, I want to thank you for your loyalty.”

“They are wrong, Mr. President,” Du Pray said. “And they are wrong now to pursue it. Is there a chance for any negotiation with Congress?”

“I can’t negotiate,” Kennedy said. “And they won’t.” Then he said to Dazzy, “Have my orders been followed—is the naval air fleet on its way to Dak?”

“Yes, sir,” Dazzy said, then shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “But the chiefs of staff have not given the final ‘go.’ They will hold back until Congress votes tonight. If the impeachment succeeds, they will send the planes home.” He paused for a moment. “They haven’t disobeyed you. They have followed your orders. They just figure they can countermand everything if you lose tonight.”

Kennedy turned to Du Pray. His face was grave. “If the impeachment succeeds, you will be the President,” he said.
“You can order the chiefs of staff to proceed with the destruction of the city of Dak. Will you give that order?”

“No,” she said. There was a long, uncomfortable silence in the room. She kept her face composed and spoke directly to Kennedy. “I have proved my loyalty to you,” she said. “As your Vice President, I supported your decision on Dak, as it was my duty to do. I resisted the demand to sign the impeachment papers. But if I become President, and I hope with all my heart I will not, then I must follow my own conscience and make my own decision.”

Kennedy nodded. He smiled at her and it was a gentle smile that broke her heart. “You are perfectly right,” he said. “I asked the question merely as a point of information, not to persuade.” He addressed the others in the room. “Now the most important thing is to get a bare-bones script ready for my television speech. Eugene, have you cleared networks? Have they broadcast bulletins that I will speak tonight?”

Eugene Dazzy said cautiously, “Lawrence Salentine is here to see you about that. It looks fishy. Shall I have him sent here? He’s in my office.”

Kennedy said softly, “They wouldn’t dare. They wouldn’t dare to show their muscle so out in the open.” He was thoughtful for a long moment. “Send him in.”

While they waited they discussed how long the speech would be. “Not more than a half hour,” Kennedy said. “I should get the job done by then.”

And they all knew what he meant. Francis Kennedy on television could overpower any audience. It was the magical speaking voice with the music of the great Irish poets. It didn’t hurt that his thinking, the progress of his logic, was always absolutely clear.

When Lawrence Salentine was ushered in, Kennedy spoke
to him directly and without a greeting. “I hope you’re not going to say what I think you’re going to say.”

Salentine said coolly, “I have no way of knowing what you’re thinking. I’ve been chosen by the other networks to give you our decision not to give you airtime tonight. For us to do so would be to interfere in the impeachment process.”